


Not It

by wickedthoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Dehumanization, M/M, Mild Gore, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Past Violence, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedthoughts/pseuds/wickedthoughts
Summary: It Bucky isn't sure about this, but he has nowhere else to go.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having bad writer's block lately, so I decided to watch _Winter Soldier_ for the billionth time to see what it inspired. Here it is.

When ~~it~~ he reads about himself in the Smithsonian it doesn’t make him remember right away. He stares at the words, the pictures, the videos, and tries to remember, but there’s nothing. In the museum’s bathroom, he stares at his reflection for a long time, only vaguely cognizant of the other men giving him strange glances and wide berth at the row of automatic sinks. Only cognizant of their presence enough that if any of them should prove a threat, he could take them out before resuming his study of the spotty mirror. He doesn’t look exactly like the young man pictured in the _James Buchanan Barnes_ display, but underneath the lean cheeks, the patchy stubble, and the long hair, he can almost see that baby-faced American war hero nicknamed _Bucky._

When he knocks on the service entrance of the Avengers Tower in New York City a week later, every instinct carefully calibrated by years of pain scream at him that he’s making a mistake. He has nowhere else to go. Pierce is dead, his handlers dead or captured, and all he has is that flash of Captain America’s face before he fell from the helicarrier into the Potomac. Before ~~it~~ _Bucky_ dived after him and saved him from drowning. That flash of vulnerable love; those nine, oddly familiar words that triggered something- _memories-_ of someone. Memories of someone called _Steve, Steve, Stevie, **my** Steve,_ that he couldn’t ignore. That was why they didn’t want ~~it~~ him to have memories, he understands now. Memories get in the way of the mission. Memories distract, they _hurt,_ in a way bullets and broken bones never could.

After two knocks, a robotic voice with a pleasant British accent asks him who he is and what he wants. The first question he doesn’t know the answer to, not really. The second-

“C-captain America,” his voice cracks from disuse, and he reminds himself to speak in English. This is America, they speak English here. “Steve. Steve Rogers. I’m here to see Steve Rogers. Tell him that- that Bucky Barnes wants to see him.”

That doesn’t feel like his name, but he’ll pretend it does because he has nowhere else to go.

“I’ll inform Captain Rogers,” the robot voice says politely. “One moment please, Mr. Barnes.”

Minutes later, not very long at all, the metal door swings open and Captain America is standing in front of him in civilian clothes. Tight white T-shirt, grey sweatpants, and worn black running shoes. The fresh sweat stains and the flush in his cheeks let ~~it~~ him know the Avenger’s been exercising. Good, if he’s still catching his breath that will give ~~it,~~ him, _Bucky_ an advantage if a fight breaks out.

“Bucky,” the other man breathes in awe, his face twisted with longing. “I- I looked for you, after I got out of the hospital. Sam, Nat, and I, we were looking all over for you.”

 ~~It~~ Bucky doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to that, so he says nothing.

“Buck? What- ?”

Bucky’s expecting him to say something like _What are you doing here?_ Which is fair. ~~It~~ Bucky shouldn’t be here, not after what he’s done. What _it_ has done. Captain America will kill him now, or take him into custody, and he was an idiot for coming here. For thinking there was a place for him in ~~his~~ Steve’s life now.

But _his_ Steve surprises him. He pulls Bucky into a hug that Bucky has to resist every urge to fight against, both arms pinned to his sides. He has no memory of hugs. Touch is pain, not- not whatever this feeling is, with Steve’s arms wrapped around him in warmth and safety. He craves more, even as he fears it.

“God, I missed you,” Steve mumbles in his ear, choking on tears. “I missed you so much, Bucky. What took you so long?”

Bucky remembers another hug, from a lifetime ago, when Steve was small and frail in his arms, both made of flesh-and-bone. Then he remembers a time when he used his body to crush a target to death, his flesh-and-bone arm holding the man’s lower back while his metal arm pressed the man’s upper back to his chest until he heard bones crack-

He’s ashamed. He shouldn’t be ashamed, it was a successful mission and he was praised and rewarded with a trip to the Chair, but now he’s ashamed. That man had had a family. That man had been trying to do good work. That man had been good, better than Bucky ever had been or could be.

“I missed you so much,” Steve repeats, nuzzling gently into Bucky’s neck. “I knew you were still in there. I knew you’d remember me. Come inside, we have a lot of catching up to do.”

 ~~It~~ Bucky doesn’t deserve it, but he has nowhere else to go.

“O-okay,” he forces a smile at Steve, remembering other conversations from that other life. “Okay, pal.”

The smile Steve gives him in return is radiant, better than a hundred successful missions or a thousand trips to the Chair, and ~~it~~ Bucky gladly follows him through the door.


End file.
